ThePoliticalCat

Friday, July 29, 2011

Fighting back or Take that you idiot!

I don't think there is any secret to the fact that the anti-gay RepigliCON Rick Santorum hates gays and has campaigned on that as an issue. Well, rather than being victims, gays are fighting back. Try doing a Google search for "Rick Santorum" and see what you get. Dan Savage, a nice fellow from Funny or Die has re-defined Santorum's last name in what is now the top hit from that Google search. Try it and gloat!

And if Rick Santorum doesn't back off his anti-gay hate campaign, Dan Savage is threatening to re-define Rick Santorum's first name too. Check it out!

Tuesday, July 12, 2011

What Does It Mean To Be Gay?

Well, according to this cute kid, it means "You are much alike."

Disclaimer: Frankly, I mostly can't stand kids. But this one's gonna grow up to be someone significant. Either that, or the world won't fucking end if we tell the children (as the Republicans seem to think).

Cain: He's Not Able

Another day, another disaster for the Republican KKKlown KKKar KKKandidates.

Srsly, how embarrassing is this, anyway? Looks like Herman Cain is down for the count and sinking. First, the candidate was forced to acknowledge that he had only $13.00 in his "Hermanator" PAC.

Then, he reported his fundraising hauls for the current quarter: $2.5 million. Which sounds really impressive, until you realize that that is the smallest amount ANY of the candidates has raised this quarter, and about half of what Timmy "FeeFee" Teapawz raised. Pawlenty raked in the smallest amount of the other WHITE candidates, and Cain raked in about half that amount. Pretty sad, ain't it?

The teabaggers talk about how Herman Cain *proves* they're not racist (Why? Because he's a self-hating black man who's willing to give cover to white people attacking our President?), yet they won't give him their money.

You know, just like when they made Michael Steele chair of the RNC, but immediately took away his ability to disburse money. They're not going to trust no black folks with money! Come ON, Herman! Where have you been for the last 60 years, Uncle?

Well, the news just gets worse for poor ol' Uncle Herman. Here we all were enjoying our nice, long, warm, summery Fourth of July weekend, and what was the Hermanator's organization doing? Pooping all over him in Iowa, that's what. Yup. His Iowa people just up and quit on him, en masse.

Hermie's trying to put a good face on it, his current spokesweasel claims they've already got replacements lined up for all the rats wut done jumped his sinking ship. But srsly, how lame is it that your entire campaign staff ups and quits? And, worse yet, accusing each other of homosexual affairs? What is this, high school?

But srsly. I don't think Uncle Herman will be with us much longer.

Oh, yeah, and some of that money he "raised" was his own. The old man actually broke down and put some of his own Hermanbux into the race. What a fool. He's actually paying for the privilege of hanging out with a bunch of rich old white guys who would be yelling at him to fetch their drinks if he was even allowed in their fucking country club.

Bye, Hermie. Wish I could say it's been nice, but I'm kinda sick and tired of us Brownz siding with the majority against our own and doing the dirty work of trying to take down one of the best Presidents this nation has ever had — for them.

Saturday, July 02, 2011

Caturday!

This feline is crawling into the overgrown garden for yet another valiant battle with the goddamn weeds. They're taller than me right now (OK, so I'm height-impaired, let's get THAT out of the way shall we, and quit the snickering?), especially the dog-fennel, and the buddleia has dead branches that could prove to be a fire hazard. Wish I had rappelling gear to make me feel secure on those slopes, but them's the breaks.

Missing our Zingiber more than ever, on these warm summer days when he would walk through the tall weeds, his eyes the same perfect shade of green, the giant whipping plume of his tail marking his passage through the overgrown garden. His quiet cat-smiles (that slow, lazy blink of the magnificent orbs) at all the other small life.

I never saw Zingiber kill anything, not even a fly. Poor sweet silly feline, gone and so sorely missed.